


Explorers

by A_wandering_mind



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, slightly nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 15:12:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13504152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_wandering_mind/pseuds/A_wandering_mind
Summary: Halamshiral is one of the longest nights for Ophelia Trevelyan, and she still need to absord all the things that happened. All she wants is some quiet moments, and Cullen will keep her company.





	Explorers

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt that I don't even remember, thanks a lot to @epitome for the beta! ♥

To say that the evening in Halamshiral was awful would be an understatement: although the situation had turned out better than expected, Ophelia could not forgive the bloodbath that had marred the evening. Although Morrigan’s presence had certainly been a positive turning point, she still could not forgive herself for all those accidental deaths: the servants, the elves, all the innocents who had found themselves swept away, in spite of themselves, in court machinations.

Leaning on the parapet, she watched the garden below, which seemed so ironically quiet despite the earlier turbulence of the night. The air has become cool, and her bare skin was tingled by the soft breeze that brought along the sweetness of the blossoming flowers. Ophelia reached a hand toward the emptiness in front of her and let a little white light flow from her fingers. Closing her eyes, she silently recited a prayer for all those who had died guiltless that night.

She didn’t even notice Cullen approaching her until his hand was upon her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Ophelia immediately dispersed the flame, but remained a few moments with closed eyes before answering. "I hate the Game." Her voice was cold and harsh to her own ears. "It was one of the few things I didn’t miss when I was in Ostwick." She turned to him and softened the expression on her face, smiling. "Anyway, yes, I'm fine, although I can say I've been better on other occasions." 

Cullen let out a sigh and could not help but mirror her smile. "I told you there's no need to be so polite when you speak to me." He gently admonished her, brushing her face with one hand.

The Inquisitor felt her face flush with the heat of embarrassment, unable to hide the redness that pervaded her cheeks. She muffled an apology between her teeth, biting her lower lip. As much as she and Cullen were ... intimate, she still couldn’t speak to him without taking the detached kind of tones she used with everyone.

"I was worried for you tonight," he said seriously, looking into her eyes. "Something terrible could have happened to you."

"It was a long night - longer than I thought and more exhausting than I would admit." Ophelia held his gaze at first, lingering on his beautiful eyes before skimming elsewhere to admire his blonde hair, no longer perfectly neat, and how incredibly handsome he was with the Inquisition's formal uniform. She blushed again at certain thoughts, and returned her attention to the garden below them.

A round of applause echoed from inside the hall before the orchestra started another song. Cullen sighed and, taking courage, took a one of Ophelia’s hands in his. "May I have the honor of this dance?"

She chuckled, hugging Cullen in close before she brought her free hand to his shoulder. "Of course you can. And I appreciate the thought more, since I know you don’t like to dance.”

 ~

He had to imagine that Trevelyan was a skilled and delicate dancer. She was noble, and had grown up in luxurious settings where parties and dancing were common. She moved gracefully, while he was awkward, rigid, and incredibly uncomfortable at the same time. He could have sworn he stepped on her foot while they danced, but she was so magnanimous that she pretended not to notice. He hugged her, white hair tickling his nose as he breathed in the scent of elfroot that always seemed to hover around her.

Ophelia was graceful, kind, an exceptional sorceress. Awkward and naive when it came to people, but still a more than remarkable woman. Cullen still couldn’t believe she had chosen him as her lover.

He heard her cough before giggling. "What is it?" He asked, still deep in thoughts.

She put both hands on his chest, before raising her crystalline eyes to his. "Music," she answered simply.

Cullen had not even realized that the music had ended and that he was still hugging her, tentatively trying to dance by swaying left and right. He stopped and took her hands in his, kissing her affectionately on one cheek. "Excuse me, I just think I missed you tonight."

Ophelia’s only answer was a smile as she rested her head on his chest. They remained like that, in silence, until her attention was drawn to the large window from which they had entered the balcony. Some Orlesian nobles were crowded around it, pointing and talking softly to each other. It was not unlike Cullen’s earlier unwanted audience. The Inquisitor let out an annoyed groan and broke away from the Commander.

"Do you mind if we go for a walk? The gardens are beautiful and..." she trailed off.

Cullen realized what she saw, finishing her sentence. "...and you feel uncomfortable." He took her hand and stepped toward the descending stairway, then stopped abruptly. "Would you wait for me a moment?" He asked gently, leaving her right on the top step.

He had noticed that the nobles were approaching them again, perhaps to follow them. "Jim! Theo!" Cullen shouted imperiously, making even Ophelia startle. The scouts reported immediately, snapping to attention. "Her Worship, the Lady Herald, wishes to be left alone for a while. Jim, make sure no one disturbs her and watch over this entrance. Theo, inform Lady Nightingale of these orders; I think she and Lady Montilyet were about to meet with Empress Celene."

After delivering the orders to his men, he cast a cold look at the small crowd that had gathered behind him. He shook his head in disgust before he returned to Ophelia’s side and offered her his arm, which he was pleased to find she immediately took.

 ~

"I don’t know if in these circumstances your orders can be called an abuse of power." She tried to be deadly serious, but the obvious amusement in her voice must have leaked, because in response Cullen laughed.

"It could be. But you are the Inquisitor, and your security and your safety are our priority." His tone was firm, and when Ophelia looked him in the eyes, she realized that it was not just a mantra that he repeated to his troops, but that he really believed in what he said. She was surprised, flattered, but deep inside her she was happy. No one have never cared so much for he, and just the thought of having his love, the love of such a wonderful and caring man, almost make her heart stop. 

When they arrived near a small portico, she leaned against a column, sighing and trying to relax, at least for a few minutes. The place was secluded but at the same time intimate, the ivy leaves that grew in the arches between the columns gave an almost bucolic air to the portico. It was a small part of the garden, where apart from a small fountain there were only a few fruit trees, and some seats sculpted in marble. Cullen stood behind her, resting his hands on the bare expanse of her shoulders. She heard him groan before she felt his breath on her ear.

"I know it's not the best time, but you're charming, in this dress." His voice so slightly husky that Ophelia didn’t notice.

The silk dress Josephine had chosen for her was dark blue, in stark contrast to her milky white hair. It was designed to be regal but at the same time intriguing, with off-the-shoulder sleeves and backless. Cullen slid his hands over her arms, and let out another groan, as if he were unable to contain himself.

"Maker preserve me, if this is not the time nor the place." He said breathlessly, embracing her tightly.

"For what?" And the question was genuinely naive.

Cullen nibbled at her ear, eliciting a little moan from her. He set her hands on the small of her own back and then planted soft, feathery kisses along her neck. Ophelia started, hands falling back to her sides, understanding only at that moment that it was such a tantalizing sight to the former Templar. She wove the fingers of one hand through his curly hair, then used her grip to gently pull him closer. He continued to skim his fingers along her exposed back as he kissed down the column of her neck. When his mouth reached her shoulder, he bit down.

She moaned, both in pain and pleasure. "Cullen," she said softly, "don’t be so rough, or the others will see the mark."

Her admonition didn’t stop his ministrations, and as he continued to kiss her incessantly, she noticed his hands toying with her skirt, tentatively trying to lift the silky curtain of fabric. "I'm sorry," he said, words muffled against her neck. Just like when they’d shared that first kiss on the battlements, it was apparent the apology was only lip service – but Ophelia didn’t mind.

Her usual good sense – her awareness of all the political and personal implications of being caught while she and Cullen were exchanging _more_ than just loving effusions – was clouded by desire. Even if Queen Celene saw them at this point, Ophelia wouldn’t care. With one hand still tangled in his hair, she tried to turn around to kiss him on the lips.

"Cullen,” she moaned between panting breaths. He looked up and stared into her eyes, pupils dilated in what was a look of pure desire.

"CULLEN!" shouted an authoritative voice not far from them.

Terror flashed in the eyes of both of them: Cassandra. He let Ophelia go immediately, trying to fix her skirt as best and as fast as he could, coughing to cover up the embarrassment that was evident in the bright red flush that was spreading to the tips of his ears and down into the collar of his dress uniform. Ophelia adjusted her dress and tried to comb a hand through her hair to fix the strands that had gone astray.

"Lady Inquisitor, Cullen," Cassandra began. "As much as she is friend of you both , the Empress is waiting for you in the palace. _Inside the building_. Whatever you're doing, ugh, I do not want to know. Just come inside please. I will await you on the balcony."

They heard the steps of the Seeker retreat, and only then started to breathe normally. Ophelia could not restrain an embarrassed laugh, which she tried to cover with one hand, and Cullen scratched the back of his neck nervously, still blushing. At first they tried not to look into each other's eyes, but then he came over and took her face in both hands, kissing her affectionately – but more chastely than his earlier affections – on the lips.

"Better get back inside before the gossip becomes more insistent than it already is."


End file.
